


Wake

by Missnasa



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29889807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missnasa/pseuds/Missnasa
Summary: He was a Hokage, but he was still human. After torture he realizes that he is not immune to trauma.-One shot-
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Wake

**Author's Note:**

> This may not be my best writing, but I agree. I was tired of seeing in all the fic a non-existent recovery after trauma. Kakashi is a human and he suffers! So I wrote this showing some of the most common symptoms of PTSD.
> 
> By the way, my characterization can be very vague, so don't take it too seriously.

Kakashi only remembered fuzzy images of his rescue. He was ripped from that smelly cell and taken to a neat hospital room, but he couldn't remember anything. He knew that he was rescued by a squad of silent people who gave him words of encouragement and finished off all enemies in a few single blows, he remembers a feeling of relief and a vague thought similar to “I am alive”. But nothing else.

He woke up in the hospital one Sunday night, shook his head, and reviewed the more pronounced wounds that medical jutsu could not heal. A few seconds later he fell back into a long sleep influenced by the intravenous drug that he suspected was morphine. He woke up again sometime in the afternoon, when people were haggling in the market, and it was impossible to control the noise.

There was no one in the room, and he didn't feel any energy to call a nurse, instead he just stood there, staring at the white ceiling.

He was neither hot nor cold, he was neither sad nor angry. He felt empty, as insipid as the ceiling he saw. His ears gradually stopped picking up the incessant constant beeping of the heart monitor, he sank little by little into the same emptiness that he felt. His eyes grew unfocused and his body shrank as much as he could, ignoring the twinge that the wound in his stomach gave him.

He kept staring at the ceiling, his arms hugging the flabby, sore legs that made the position uncomfortable, but he didn't care. His scattered thoughts and his neutralized senses were as effective as any anesthesia he had ever received from him.

He didn't feel when a nurse exclaimed in surprise and ran off to find some doctor. Nor when a medical team arrived trying to untangle him from the position that was forcing his injuries. His stiffness subsided only when the sedative ran through his body again, and he fell into a heavy sleep. His third awakening was terrifying, Kakashi woke up agitated as his mind repeated over and over vivid images of that unpleasant torture.

He yanked the mask off as his lungs burned from what little air his gasps were letting through. He removed the sheets in a movement that managed to tear the vein connected to the IV a little, and from his blood came out. It was no more than tiny drops produced by his thick blood, but in his delirium, it was enough to intensify the intrusive thoughts.

He wallowed away from aggressive hallucinations that never touched him, but did threaten to hurt him. He screamed, because that was the only way he could release the frustration from him while he was imprisoned with those translucent chains, and he struggled like he was convulsing. His chakra was depleted, but he released an explosion in hopes of driving away those red deformed men. He cried pathetically when he saw that neither was fazed by his efforts, his last will included a ragged scream from his sore throat.

His attack did not last much more than five minutes, when the nurse decided to sedate him again.

His fourth awakening included a familiar face. Gai was there, in his wheelchair, trying to give his best jovial smile. Kakashi could only listen without giving an answer to any question that his friend gave him. He noticed that he was wearing his mask again and that his hands were attached to the stretchers, as if it could stop a shinobi. Except he did.

He felt annoyed, angry that he had not prevented that attack that put him in that situation, angry that he did not control the images that were repeated over and over again in the same order, angry with the condescending look that Gai gave him over and over again in the midst of his mindless chatter, angry at the nurses who only knew how to drug him, angry at himself.

And the moment he couldn't keep hearing the vague words of his supposed friend, he yelled at him. He yelled at her to get away, to leave him alone, that he was no charity. The orderlies arrived, and Kakashi kept yelling. He encouraged them to sedate him, and they did so without question. The last thing he saw was Gai's haunted face, but Kakashi didn't give a shit.

The fifth time he woke up it was next to the Hokage, his former student Naruto. He said a few long words, avoiding eye contact and in less than a minute he was fired, claiming he deserved a dignified retirement. Kakashi didn't feel a thing, and again didn't respond. But this time, he didn't explode, because he felt as empty as the color of the ceiling. He suppressed his urge to flinch, and looked up at the ceiling again, turning his attention to a moth flying from side to side. Naruto left when he couldn't establish any conversation.

And in exchange for earlier times, he couldn't sleep, startled by whatever pounding there was. The drug-induced sleep seemed to be the only one that did not allow invasive thoughts, but not wanting to continue drugged, he preferred eternal insomnia.  
The same pattern was repeated for at least 4 days until the doctors determined that he no longer needed to be there, at least physically. If there was one thing he could be sure of, it was that Konoha's health insurance was rubbish.

She came out when it was noon, right after eating the bland hospital food. And that's when he hit the realization, he was no longer a shinobi, he was retired, and he didn't think he could continue fighting for it. So he left town, without hiding his identity, without feeling sad or angry. He had no particular path, no clothes, no food, no money, but that didn't matter to him.

He no longer wanted to be there, and nine days confirmed the inevitable, he was too old for it.


End file.
